Vulnerability is a powerful tool capable of reshaping human relationships and how we orient to the world. So much of our time with other people is spent dwelling on the surface. Yet, nothing meaningful ever happens there. 

If you expect depth in your relationships, you have to present depth in your character.

When it comes to interactions with friends and family, people tend to present vulnerability in hopes of getting love and support. Someone is likely struggling with a personal problem and hopes that by sharing their feelings, they can glean some new insights. 

A good example is when someone finally stops “being fine” and gets specific with their issues.

Maybe you call your brother and say, “I’ve been waking up anxious every day. I keep thinking I’m behind in life, and I’m embarrassed to admit it.” You pause, expecting awkward silence.

But instead, he says, “I’m glad you told me. I’ve had the same thing for months. I didn’t want to freak anyone out, so I kept it to myself.” And then the conversation changes. It goes from problem-solving to solidarity.

Vulnerability is an immensely powerful tool that can open doors for genuine connections. 

While I’ve always been good at sharing my feelings, I recently came to recognize the true power of vulnerability in the dating world. 

This particular example took place in Sayulita, Mexico. I had recently come out of a 4-year relationship and was dating for the first time sober from alcohol. As such, I was relearning the dating world and coming to appreciate the nuances of human relationships in new and unique ways. 

I remember meeting a girl named Sarah from the UK for a sunset beach walk. Sayulita is an international destination, with its fair share of interesting and exotic people from around the globe. While Sarah and I had plenty to talk about with travel and life on the road, the conversation waivered on the surface.

Just talking about the basic details of our lives felt like just going through the motions. Its like we were communicating because it was mandatory, not because it was enriching. Honestly, the tone and texture of the initial conversation could have been with a coworker in the office. 

Walking towards the end of the beach, Sarah laid out a beach blanket for us to relax on while we admired the sunset. As we sat down, my mind drifted towards my family, as the next day was St. Patrick’s Day – this being my sister’s birthday who died from cancer just 6 years earlier. 

Instead of being stuck in my head, I decided to share this information with Sarah. When I spoke about how I was really feeling, I could feel the energy of the entire date shift. Sarah responded in kind, sharing what she was struggling with. We both expressed our fears and insecurities. It was a blast of fresh air. 

We both sensed an opening and walked through it, and began sharing how we were feeling at that exact moment. As we packed and headed back where we came from, the experience was something altogether different than when we first embarked on the beach walk. 

It was as if genuine human engagement heightened our awareness and helped us appreciate the beauty surrounding us even more. By touching something real and true in one place, it somehow clears your vision for a moment as you engage the world. Things feel open. 

The beach date with Sarah was one of the best dates I’ve been on. 

You have to take a chance to have a meaningful experience. 

In this example, I took a chance on talking about something very emotionally challenging to a complete stranger. And, somewhere in the process, Sarah no longer felt like a stranger. She had quickly and mysteriously transformed into a friend and confidant. 

That is the power of vulnerability. It can be really scary to lay something out there, but the willingness to do so will transform your relationships and your world. 

Beyond opening doors for human connection, there is also something inherently romantic in the idea of being vulnerable. Not romantic in a dating type of capacity, but in a more literary sense.

Romanticism is explained as “a general exaltation of emotion over reason and of the senses over intellect; a turning in upon the self and a heightened examination of human personality and its moods and mental potentialities; a preoccupation with the genius, the hero, and the exceptional figure in general and a focus on his or her passions and inner struggles.” 

Something interesting arises here. The act of vulnerability becomes a microcosm of the heroic journey. By taking a chance and exposing your feelings to another, you embark into the unknown. You shine a light into your darkest regions for another to witness. This reciprocal exchange bears fruit, and each of you returns to ordinary reality enriched and somehow different than before.  

Because you exult emotion over reason, there is always something inherently romantic in taking a chance. 

Is it the blind faith of the martyr? 

Perhaps the folly of the fool? 

Or are the most awakened ones those with the least to hide, because they’ve given it all away? 

I had a bit of a spiritual awakening a few months ago. For a brief moment, I saw very clearly how the willingness to talk about my own feelings has helped people in my inner circle. Because I’ve been so willing to share my own vulnerabilities, I’ve become a bit of a refuge for those around me.

By opening a door with my own speech, I also open a door for others to do the same. When we walk through these doors, they pay serious dividends with real human connections. Like treasured amulets, we carry those emotionally poignant moments with us as we navigate a very challenging world. 

From my perspective, the main thing humanity is lacking right now is faith in other human beings. In particular, those who share different political or religious beliefs. Vulnerability is a powerful tool that we can use to connect in meaningful ways – regardless of worldviews and opinions. 

Fear, insecurity, anxiety, and depression are very real phenomena that don’t pay heed to political parties, national borders, or financial incentives. Yet, it’s precisely our shared suffering that can be used to build bridges over deeply entrenched biases. 

Imagine if you walked up on someone from an opposing political faction, expecting a volatile reaction. Instead of attacking you, this individual says, “Man, I’m having a really rough day, I got news from the doctor that I have adult-onset diabetes.” No matter how deeply entrenched your bias towards this individual, the humanity in you could not stop itself from feeling compassion.

Even if this door of empathy closes quickly, the important thing to note is that there was an opening for a brief moment. If it’s possible to create these openings, the capacity to overcome biases is there. Vulnerability creates windows for mutual understanding, where opposing views can get a glimpse beneath the bias on the surface and look deep into the person. 

On the most basic human level, we can all identify with suffering. 

How much of your suffering are you willing to share to spread empathy in the world? 

By taking the chance and jumping off the cliff, you just might be reborn anew.